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Endwalker: A Retrospective (2/2)

Since the release of patch 6.5 I've found my time in Final Fantasy dwindling as I turn my attention to other games in my catalogue. It's not necessarily a bad thing as I've always enjoyed keeping up with other games, but I do see how folks who only really play FFXIV regularly would want more to invest in and be rewarded more meaningfully. The biggest suggestions I can make in my experience with Endwalker looking at what we got overall are to use Criterion (Savage) as an alternative to obtaining Savage Raid-tier gear since the difficulties are near equivalent and to make the endgame relic grind more of an initial investment tied once again to the upcoming Field Operation as it was with Bozja. These are points I've seen rehashed time and time again by a good amount of the major content creators of the game and I'm inclined to agree with most of their sentiments on the overall replayability of Endwalker content, which seemed to offer very little longevity for any of the new activities it provided. As it stands, there has never been a better time to jump in and start your FFXIV journey as a new player than now, but for the veterans there's hope on the horizon to be found in the New World. Looking back I think the community has spoken up about a lot of the qualms they've had with the expansion, and I'd like to imagine many of their concerns will be addressed in Dawntrail. ______________________________________________________________ Now for a review score. In isolation, I would give the complete Endwalker experience a 72, with the strong point being the story and raiding, while it had a weak implementation of new ideas that always seemed to just miss the mark for their target audience. Overall for the Hydaelyn vs. Zodiark Saga, with Endwalker being the conclusion, I would give the game an 87. The narrative threads and world building, within both the MSQ and the optional content such as raiding and side-stories culminates in a charming experience that gets just barely held back by the monotony of its fairly passive approach to driving the plot, elevated by a some major impactful moments. The game is more accessible to new and solo players than it ever has been while still providing a lot of content to challenge people who seek it out, and it has the boon of very rarely using the FOMO tactics that so many other live service games use to incentivize a regular player-base, which gives me peace of mind knowing I can step away from the world if I have to and come back to pick up where I left off without a hitch.

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Endwalker: A Retrospective (1/2)

Final Fantasy XIV's most recent expansion "Endwalker" has been a big point of conversation within the community for some time since its release back on December 3rd, 2021. It released to high critical acclaim as the summation of a ten year long saga within one of the most popular MMORPGs available on the market today. I want to look back at the long walk to the end before we blaze a new trail unto the dawn. As someone who's logged several thousand hours over the course of my journey throughout Etheirys I've finished many quests, ran a majority of the content (excluding Ultimates, in due time...), and met a wide range of folks sinking time into one of my favorite games. First off, we dive right into the Main Scenario Questline, hereon referred to as the "MSQ". Most of anything the expansion entails requires you to have conquered the arduous journey the game lays out before you. The production quality of the MSQ is well above where it started, and the increase in quality of the cinematic direction, the voice acting, and the narrative intrigue have all played into making Endwalker truly feel like the culmination of all that came before it. The emotional beats hit hard in some spots, and there's a good mix of light-heartedness in between momentous crescendos that act as a sort of palate cleanser to keep things from becoming strenuous or overbearing for an expansion story the length of a standalone single player RPG. I want to refrain from going into much detail in consideration of those players that have yet to complete the MSQ, but there were a few scenes that actually choked me up, and I'm not typically one to get emotional consuming media. Though that can be said for the base Endwalker MSQ, or the "6.0" content, there was something lackluster about the narrative that followed the climax that felt weaker in comparison. The quality is still there, and in some ways they showcased more of what I hope we get to experience in Dawntrail, however nothing about the more isolated adventure really had me buzzing off the same high as some of the previous post-patch story content such as within Shadowbringers or Heavensward. I do hope that we see some payoff in content down the line, perhaps in the next expansion or even further out, but as of now it felt like getting a lukewarm brownie as a dessert after eating a perfectly seasoned steak. That may seem a bit harsh, but I did still enjoy the brownie. On the topic of the endgame however, I must admit I'm speaking in near isolation since I was a much more casual player before Endwalker released. The encounters ranging from Extreme Trials to Savage Raiding feel really solid, if a bit intense at times. Raiding has been my primary focus in the game for nearly 2 years at this point aside from MSQ completion and it's been fun, but frustrating. Having done some of the more mid-tier content in Stormblood and Shadowbringers such as Eureka, Bozja, and Ishgardian Restoration, the options available to me in the post-patches of Endwalker seemed to amount to either Savage Raiding or using a spreadsheet to upgrade my Island Sanctuary which isn't my favorite kind of content by any means. I had no real drive to push through the new Criterion Dungeons since there was nothing they offered that I felt worth the hassle of pursuing, and Deep Dungeons have never been my favorite content so I've gotten little time in with the new Eureka Orthos. In the end, here just weeks away from Dawntrail's release, my biggest drive to log in is getting my alternative Jobs I've neglected up to the current max level, meeting new people through the more social aspects of the game such as visiting player-run venues, and running PvP activities to finish off my Series.

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The Eternity of an Instant

Within the ticking of a second hand Lies a space for the instant infinite A window to ponder everything Yet acting out is forever away Accessible in the midst of crisis Heart aflutter like a hummingbirds wings Beating in the boundaries unnoticed The vastness found within what seem finite Scales immensely in atomic portions If we could exist within that micro What could we make of macro ambitions Perhaps this is where dreams are constructed Unconsciously we live alternate lives Under these layers of lucidity Or maybe the eternity in death Where afterlives are claimed to be present At what scale are we likened to atoms With space so incomprehensibly grand Scurrying along our perceived lifetime Within the ticking of a second hand

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Revelation

"What do you stand for?"

The "hero" slumped against the base of a statue, the wheeze of her labored panting audible across the room. She unfastened her crumpled armor and let it fall beside her broken sword as to keep from smothering. Her tunic from the collar down was stained with blood and sweat, rugged at the hems and seams from the hardships she'd endured along her travels, with many small tears in places that her cuirass couldn't cover. The royal sigil was engraved on the medallion hanging around her neck, no longer obscured by the now discarded breastplate.

"A people in need of a champion."

My eyes lingered on the medallion. The crest depicted a winged man with outstretched arms, one hand holding a sword with the blade pointing down while the other clasped the head of a serpent coiled up to his shoulder.

"A people with no heed for the folk of the land. Your ancestors came from distant shores to reap the yield of fields sown of sorrow, fertilized by the blood of Fae too naïve to be wary." I removed my helmet and traced the contour of my pointed ears, a distinction of my Faeborn ancestry. My fingers then came to rest at the base of my horns which further indicated my Draconian bloodline. These horns were prized among her people as trophies of conquest against the "daemons" of the new world. "Tell me Hero. When you gaze upon my visage do you see a monster? Does the taper of my ears mark me an atrocity?" "You seek to deny us a life of peace, your deeds are what mark you a monster, not your face."

"You claim that my deeds are of monstrous intent, yet all that I've done is defend my people. Your hunters encroach on our homes seeking to carve these horns from mothers and children and sell them to 'nobles'. There is hardly nobility in ordering slaughter. The wings of sprites are being plucked at the behest of alchemists with absent morals. What peace is there amidst the destruction they've wrought?"

As she struggled to stand upright her boots slid along the tile while her faulds clanked against the polished stone supporting her weight. The tile below her feet was besmirched by pooling blood as it trickled down her scorched greaves. She looked up from her buckling knees and attempted to cut me down with her glare since she lacked the strength to brandish a weapon. She twisted her face like a cornered beast as I approached her step by step.

"The oracles preach of your jealousy, that the savages of this land wish to bring us low with deceptions and beasts controlled by wild magicks."

"We haven't the means to control the creatures you speak of, magical or otherwise."

"I've seen villages where faeries walk alongside monsters."

"We show reverence to the creatures of our lands, and tend to them in ways not wholly apart from your shepherds and livestock. We have no more agency over the wilds than you. We've merely approached co-operation as opposed to domination. A lesson your leaders obviously have yet to reflect on."

Her eyes darted around the room looking for an escape, but her body lacked the energy to spring into action, and increasingly they flitted back toward mine, eventually coming into lock with my own unwavering gaze. Her shaky breaths still too shallow to allow her a moment of relief. I stopped my encroachment just a few strides away, leaving enough room between us to keep her from readily lashing out.

"You've been blinded by your loyalty to the word of deceivers that you don't even understand the symbol you wear."

"This winged figure is God, in one hand wielding righteous fury toward those beneath him, as the snake coiling his arm is kept with fangs at length. The tenets the Oracles transcribe from the legacy of our forefathers are engraved into my heart by memory."

"Yet in their hubris they have warped the true meaning in his bearing, for my people revere him in our lore. Though the I see over time your Oracles have omitted his horns."

"What are you-"

Her words came to a halt as my cloak flung backward, no longer obscuring my silhouette. Emerging from underneath heavy fabric come feathers the color of dark wine, spreading wide and unveiling my armor made of onyx serpent scales laid upon golden fur. The stripped tendril of an Everwillow carved in the form of the Great Winged Serpent coiled down my left arm with its head swallowing my wrist as a bracer. When the realization of what she's witnessed washed over her face I couldn't help but smirk in amusement.

"We are not gods, but we are ancient."

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That Funny Feeling

I lie in bed wishing I could fall asleep, but the night refuses to lull me despite my willingness. My eyes linger on the clock, each passing minute an eternity til the next, yet ever on the numbers flash into the early morning.

Around the witching hour, the moment signifying my birth, is when I find my mind adrift. Finding no solace yet to dreams, but lost amidst restless schemes. Pondering the nature of things that seem elusive to conscious consideration.

What nature does it take to accept the things we cannot change? Would resistance toward the inevitable be deranged, or moreso the resignation to the idea of a fate preordained? These sort of pseudo-philosophic ideas come rushing through my mind and the current of this formidable river of thoughts forces my eyelids apart like floodgates.

I shift my gaze onto the incandescent digits cutting through the dark enshrouding the rest of the bedroom and sigh, in hoping for a yawn, when I see an hour's worth of rumination spanned a measly ten minutes. At this point the warmth that initially beckoned me to bed is a growing source of discomfort, forcing me to kick the blankets off of me.

Please, oh sweet dreams, deliver me from this mundane agony of insomnia and keep me for a time.

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To be a Tree

Sometimes I lie in bed and simply listen to the sounds that bring me comfort:   Crickets chirping on a summer night. A waterfall tumbling in the distance. Raindrops on the windshield of a car. The breeze dancing in a forest canopy. When being present is too much to process I find tranquility placing myself outside of my existence.  Another form in another place, far separated from my reality. I like to imagine what it’s like to be a tree, to feel the wind in my own leaves, my my branches host to squirrels and birds.  If I could choose to take root it would be a purchase along a cliffside where a the mist from a waterfall could be carried.  I’d overlook a valley rich with untamed life, yet inaccessible to most creatures that couldn’t fly or climb.  I’d want to bear a fruit, perhaps apples since they’re one of my favorites; a strong wind could knock them into the valley below for each animal to enjoy. I dissociate into those little daydreams when I’m weary of the world.  I love to be human and I live for things we’ve come to hone such as arts and technology. However my imagination, which fuels my drive as a human to be creative and expressive, allows me to find peace far removed from my humanity.

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Words to Live By

*Quick notice before getting into the dialogue* This content mentions topics that may be triggering to some users, read at your own discretion.

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"Do you you ever feel like dying?"

He looks at her with concerned intrigue, but he doesn't make a sound.  Her words lingered through the silence for a moment, then she continued.

"I think I want to die, that I've wanted to die for a while... but I want to know if you'd be there with me when I do."

She glances at him then slowly drags her eyes down along the railing and back to her hands, clutching the rail so tightly they're visibly strained.

After a brief moment, he walks over and places his hand over hers and lifts her face towards his own. He wears a stern expression, furrowed brows looming over tender, teary eyes.

"I want to be with you when your time comes..." his voice cracks as he chokes on his next words "... but I don't want you to die until we're old; until we've lived out the moments of a lifetime together"

Her calm shatters and she starts to cry, and as she starts to back away in reflex she shakes her head and responds

"But you told me that life hurts too much- that sometimes you wish you just didn't exist."

She escalates her voice to almost yelling, confused and feeling betrayed.

"I thought you felt the same way I do!"

She breaks her hand away from his and the rail and she steps back, he reaches out and grabs her shoulders before she has the chance to turn away

"I'm hurting, yes.  I can feel the weight of my own existence on the people around me, but that's exactly WHY I don't want to die.  I want to live, I want US to live, but I don't want to be a burden by living anymore.  I'm sick of the pity, of the advice, of people asking me 'How's life been?' and being ashamed of whatever possible response I could give them in return. But I want to make it better, I want to be happier with you, and I want to make you happier than I could ever be."

He pulls her in and she willingly stumbles into an embrace. Pressed against his chest she can feel his heartbeat as acutely as his shaking arms.

He mutters into the crown of her head:

"I'm sorry, if I can be selfish only once, I don't want anything to take you from me."

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Passion

Have you ever found yourself so unabashedly excited about something that you can feel it overflowing, something you find so fascinating that you just have to tell everyone you know about how great that thing is? What about dedicating hour upon hour to immerse yourself in every facet of it? Do you become frustrated when you feel like you can't participate, make progress, or afford it?

To me, that's what I imagine passion to be. Sometimes hours can feel like minutes in passing. It hurts when people put you down for it or don't understand how important that thing is to you. It sucks when your obligations separate you from doing what you love or when other people seemingly go out of their way to diminish your experience. It's upsetting when you falter or lack the motivation or resources to pour into it.

Passion is also such a fickle thing sometimes. A bad experience can tarnish the wonder. You get discouraged when you feel like nobody can understand why it's important to you, or if society tells you that what you love isn't worth loving or isn't meant for you. That hurts me more than even a physical injury, because it makes me feel like I'm wrong for feeling happiness on my own terms.

But passion is beautiful, and the people that love you should encourage you to pursue that joy even if they don't understand. Sometimes they can be rude or envious, whether it's because they lack an understanding or they want to prove their importance over it. Sometimes we can lose sight of other important things in life in our relentless pursuit of our passions.

It's a beautiful thing, yet it can be harmful as well. That's why finding a balance and respecting each other is so important. Passion unchecked can become zealotry, while passion unfulfilled builds regret and resentment.

If you love something, cherish it and try to stay true to yourself regardless of the vitriol or dismissal. But leave room for those that love you to be included so that they can love you for all that you are. Hopefully they can make room for you amidst their own passions too.

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Monday Update

I've been hit or miss for the past few days because there's been a bunch of stuff taking up my time over the weekend between grinding out some games, spending time with family, watching my nephews, and working on a drawing (I'll be posting that here when it's done, still a pretty hefty WIP).

After all that is said and done I find myself at like 3am having not even thought about my writings and either pulling from my notes to stuff from before I set up The Corner Window or putting it out of mind in my eagerness to pass out for the night.

As much as I try to come up with some spontaneous writings on the fly, I'm considering checking on writing prompts to get started a bit easier and hit the flow without the headache. We'll see how it goes for established writing. Maybe I can start a series from my FFXIV short story and do a weekly update on that going forward as well!

All in all, I'm still having a lot of fun with this and I can see myself posting long term as opposed to over the course of a month, but since I'm also looking for more consistent work it may be more of a challenge to maintain. I'll surely have more art to post here and there as well. I used to draw a lot more through school and growing up, but I've leaned more into writing and acting since adulthood, so I'm in need to polish up my techniques while making the switch from Analogue to Digital.

I hope you all had an awesome weekend, and an even better week going forward. As always, I appreciate you taking the time to stop by The Corner Window, take care of yourselves!

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Cat

Basking on the windowsill

Soaking in the golden rays

Batting at the ceiling fan

Sleeping through the lazy days

Rubbing on the table leg

Leaving loose hairs in their wake

Jumping up onto your lap

Kneading with no mind to bake

Pawing at the bathroom door

Zooming through the morning hours

Gnawing on your fingertips

Perching atop carpet towers

Sitting on you late at night

Checking if you're still asleep

Meowing at an empty bowl

Watching insects as they creep

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I forgot to write before 12am, but I haven't slept yet so it still counts! For today I have an insight I wanted to share from my journal:

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

However, the notion of being deserving of love is ridiculous in and of itself.  To deserve love implies that love is a reward for some good deed or a prize to be won, it trivializes a magnificently complex feeling that dictates so much of our identity. We have entire communities based around feeling accepted for loving in our own way; schools of thought exist for all the nuanced ways love can present itself in our relationships.  Nobody necessarily "deserves" any form of love, it just happens when they get a feeling that they can't consciously control. 

The idea of being out of someones league is this weird socially accepted idea that again places emphasis on love as a form of reward.  If you love someone then nobody can rightfully tell you that you should or should not have that feeling reciprocated, especially based on social status.  It's just a matter of whether the people you fall in love with can bring themselves to love you back. I believe we should be happy for anyone who finds a mutual love and strive to propagate that joy rather than put it down.

Don't strive to "accept the love you think you deserve".  Simply love and be true to yourself so that you may be loved in kind. I hope you all have a good night!

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Tuft

The faintest draft in passing by A subtle movement did I spy Something small, perhaps a mouse Yet not a noise within the house I step out just to take a look Which path this apparition took And laying there along the floor A tuft of hair and nothing more

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A quick pic of the aforemantioned Meatloaf, I think it turned out well! Plus it's delicious, mission success.

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Casual Tuesday Journal

Today, I kind of just wanted to take it easy on the writing and shoot the virtual breeze.  I’ve had a pretty good day so far, woke up around 7 out of excitement I suppose since Destiny 2: Lightfall is going live on daily reset today.  Decided to make the morning a productive one and got all the dishes done that had piled up for the past day or 2.  Afterward I started baking a meatloaf, which typically I’m not a fan of, but I’m trying a “Swedish Meatball Meatloaf” recipe and hoping for the best... so that’s just hanging out in the oven for the next little bit.  The gravy was interesting to make, but I got it finished and it’s just simmering on warm in the skillet next to the brussels sprouts I sautéed.  So now I’m just sitting here with my 3rd mug of coffee counting down the last hour-20 until I can play Destiny!  My buddies and I are gonna be going through the legendary campaign together and getting stuff ready for the “contest mode” raid launch.  We got it done last year with the previous raid, so we’re pretty confident we can pull it off again.  But that’s it from me today, I have a meatloaf to go pull out of the oven hahaha.  Hope you all have an awesome day as well!

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As Light Falls

“Are you taking inventory again?  Look at all this equipment...” Ghost flits around the hall of the H.E.L.M, eyeballing the assortment of firearms leaning on the walls as I prod at the Vault terminal to tag defunct guns for dismantling.  He zooms over and hovers above a white auto rifle with gold inlaid Cabal markings. “Oh wow! I haven’t seen this one in years, I thought you got rid of it after the whole... Shadow incident.” I pause from my tinkering with the screen and look back at the gun.  Ghost was busy idly scanning the mechanisms within, simple enough to be readily synthesized from glimmer if discarded or damaged. “It’s a good gun.” I curtly remark, turning back to resume organizing a hoard of gear. “Do you ever wonder how things would have changed if we hadn’t stopped the assault on the Spire of Stars?” Ghost ponders, slowly floating over the minefield of worn out armor scattered along the floor. “Would we have ever met Caiatl? Would we have been able to fight off House Salvation long enough for Rasputin to...” “I don’t linger on ‘what-ifs’ like Elsie and Osiris, we just have to face consequences we’re dealt and adapt... or collapse.” I posit, walking over to take the familiar Ghost Primus in-hand and tracing along the gilded patterns.  “They do well to learn from the past, but I tend to hope for the future.  There’s not enough room for hesitation when we’re facing down what foes may come.” “That hope seems more distant than ever before.” Ghost murmurs as he drifts to the bridge window. The H.E.L.M is making it’s way back into the station, now overlooking the City. The skyline is unsettlingly hollow bereft of the Traveler.  Maintenance frames can be heard behind closed doors clearing out the facilities from our major operations, along with the heavy footfalls of Imperial Legionnaires under command of Lord Saladin.  Masked by the muffled rummaging, the ethereal buzz of a transmat abruptly sounds from the War Table.  Light-footed steps characteristic of a Hunter trail into the bridge and stop at the edge of the communications terminal. “You finally going to take those to your quarters?” I ask aloud now sifting through armor. “At least I don’t treat half the bridge as a laundry room” Crow chides with a chuckle.  Despite his tone it’s easy to tell something weighs on his mind, which for him in particular is typical. “He left them for you as a parting gift.” I say, tracing the honed edge of the iron battle axe with my eyes.  “You know what he meant by it.” Crow takes the medallion into his hand and runs his thumb between the engraved wolf heads.  The battle axe stands unmoved since the day Saladin became Bracus Forge, having since rose in rank to become a Valus on the Imperial War Council. “I heard that you’ve earned a legacy of your own ‘Young Wolf’.  How do you seem to handle everything that’s thrown at you in stride so readily?” Crow asks, still feeling over the surface of his amulet. “I don’t.” I said bluntly, before continuing on. “The Taken, the Red War...” “...Cayde.” Crow stutters as he grips the medallion tightly.  “I realize it must be hard to have me around so often.” “I’m grateful that you’re here with me.  I know that it wasn’t you during all of that mess, and I forgave you, as Crow, before we’d even wrested you from The Spider’s web.  But it took me a long time to forgive Uldren... back on the Leviathan.  But when I look at you I don’t see him anymore, I see a companion who’s endured far more than any New Light should.  A friend that I trust to step up when it’s needed.” “And I see my Guardian, who didn’t abandon me even when it meant he’d suffer as well!” Chimed in Glint, Crow’s ghost who had been buzzing around my own catching up on some chatter. “The point is” I continue, “I’m not an unflappable force of nature.  We’re both still human despite having been chosen by our ghosts.  I’ve stumbled, and I’ve had lessons to learn along my own journey.  We’re both young and reckless in our own ways.  What matters is that we make our recklessness count for something in the end.” “You don’t sound young, you sound like you’d have seen Twilight Gap firsthand.  But I guess I never realized that it’s only been 8 years for you... so much has happened in less than a decade.” “It’s hard to say what will happen next with The Witness on our doorstep.  Keep your eyes up, guardian” Crow nods with a new look of determination, takes hold of the battle axe, and with a simple “Let’s go Glint.” transmats out, leaving me to my ‘laundry’.  I clean up my mess with the H.E.L.M still bustling with grunting and clangs as the Eliksni board to relocate the captain’s atlas.  I nod to Miisraaks and Eido before stepping out into the City streets for the first time in what feels like forever.  It’s about time I go grab a nice bowl of ramen, maybe I’ll see if the clan wants to join. 

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In the Shadow

A harmless intent A comment oft spoken “Are you two related?” “I bet you’re a sharp one!” “Can you also draw well?” “You’re just like your father!” A pile of statements Preset expectations “Your sister was so smart!” “You’ve got to try harder...” “I know how you boys are.” “Your uncle’s a charmer” These secondhand statements Weigh more than they realize The way people see me Makes me feel self-conscious Are they disappointed when I’m not my father? Why try when I’ll never live up to my sister? So early in life I didn’t know what the harm was But as I get older I realize the bias Defiant, I chose to break expectations Became a bad student, picked up awful habits I wanted to be seen for something I could control I felt like I lived in the shadow of others “Your sister was so smart, I know you can do better.” “I bet you’ll look just like him when you’re older.” “You must get your talent in arts from your mama.” I stopped socializing with people as often The folks who all “knew” me because of my family Raised in a small town, I longed for the city Where nobody cares and no surname defines me.